I HONOR MY BLEEDING HEART

            I am, unabashedly, a “bleeding heart liberal.”  I am neither proud, nor ashamed of that fact.  It just is.  Even though I grew up in a Roman Catholic household and still observe many Catholic rituals, such as burning votive candles with images of the Virgin Mary and, yes Jesus’ sacred bleeding heart, my personal faith takes on more of a Taoist nature these days.   In my study of other religions and disciplines, I gain a greater and more complete understanding of Jesus of Nazareth, the man, not the myth.

            I grew up poor in a small rural American town in the 1960’s.  My family was on welfare for a time and my brothers and I were able to take advantage of the many great and sustaining programs of Lyndon Johnson’s ‘Great Society,’ starting with, the then brand new, Project Headstart.  I was ten  years old and my teenage brother, who landed a job as a TA, took me with him to work to volunteer there, reading to little kids and playing with them. This was my first experience in giving back to my community and would plant the seed that told me I would always need to give something of myself to others because, no matter what I was going through, there would always be someone out there who needed whatever I had to offer.  I learned that being human was about asking for help when I needed it, and always giving whatever I had to offer of myself to others, also in need.  I learned that what goes around, comes around and that no one person is superior to another.

            As I grew up, there would be more encounters with assistance from government programs:  job corps gave me work and a paycheck when I was an awkward adolescent, pell grants, loans, scholarships, as well as affirmative action opportunities (for which I make no apologies to anyone) all along the way provided a pathway to UCLA Law School and greater opportunities for success, not just for me, but for countless others.  I learned useful skills, met many people who would write letters of recommendation in support of my future endeavors, earned my own keep, started paying taxes at the age of thirteen, and learned how to break the shackles of hopeless poverty – one link at a time.

            I have tried to explain to my conservative friends how these opportunities, engineered by the genius of Sargent Shriver -- forever my hero, created layers upon layers of tax payers and job creators.  I always get the same answer – it was just too expensive, i.e., not worth it.  The implication being that they resented their tax dollars contributing to my success, as it left less in their pocketbooks.  I suppose they would have preferred that I spend my life in domestic labors, as did my grandmother and my mother.  I would be paying a lot less in taxes if that were the case, and I could not have created the jobs and other opportunities that I have created in my legal career, as well as through my participation in various volunteer efforts and non-profit board responsibilities through the years.  And that’s just my story!  I also had two brothers who also benefitted from the Great Society, and went on to further education, jobs, and volunteer activities; from mentoring and tutoring students, to volunteering for Amnesty International and Catholic charities.  We didn’t ever just take.  As we were receiving with one hand, we were giving of ourselves with the other.  My story is not unique.  It is one of millions that speak of learning to give and receive and to honor ourselves by giving back to what gave to us.  As a young lawyer, I met others who had reaped like benefits, and extended friendship and opportunity to me – a cycle of giving and sharing.  For when we give, we create more – more learning, more sharing, more loving and, of course, more money – for everybody.

            It appears to me, that whatever benefit was spent on my family over a decade of time has been more than paid back, and not just in dollars and cents.  Between the three of us siblings, we have more than paid it back just with our tax liability over the past forty years.  But beyond that, we have volunteered hours upon hours of our time to those whose needs we could not ignore, as we recognized our own story in those we assisted and encouraged in many ways.  Certainly, by any empirical measure, our communities – local, state and national, have been repaid multiple times over, not just with dollars, but with volunteer effort – blood, sweat and tears.

            So, all of this leaves me beyond puzzled.  How did the term “bleeding heart” become such a nasty term?  I am not ashamed of my bleeding heart, and I wouldn’t imagine that Jesus would be ashamed of His.  So, why is it considered evil and stupid to care about what happens to other people?  Is it because they see this as a waste?  I cannot deny accusations of waste and abuse and fraud.  I only know my own story, and it is one of plenty created from lack, with just a little bit of support and encouragement from my government – my President, my Congress, my local elected officials.  I felt motivated to honor the efforts of those who created this opportunity for me.  I felt cared about by my community when I was growing up.  Children growing up in poverty today don’t have that same experience.  They are looked down upon and hear people in suits call their parents worthless and lazy.

            This brings me to the crux of the matter.  For me, identifying as a “Christian” is not about ritual or dogma; it is about being like Jesus.  Acting like Jesus, healing like Jesus, sharing like Jesus, loving others, like Jesus did -- unconditionally and without judgment.  You see, being like Jesus has nothing to do with homosexuality, or condemnation of others, or judging others whose experiences  and perspectives may differ; but with actually caring about how people feel and caring about what happens to them.  I can pray and meditate all day long, staring at a likeness of Jesus with his bleeding heart; but if I am unconcerned about those in my community with unmet needs, well then, I’m just wasting God’s time.  I have a bleeding heart because I care if people in my community eat, have a safe place to sleep, have some hope in their lives.  I could never be ashamed of that sentiment that I share with the Son of Man, the Prince of Peace.